The Legend of the Jolly Roger
by Mika Kino
Summary: Can't get enough pirates? Neither can anyone else. Ghosts of Pirates are haunting our world, searching for the reincarnations of their restless souls to bring pirates into everyones lives once again, only problem, now they'll have access to machine guns.
1. Default Chapter

A/n: Wow…. I feel like a hypocrite. Yeah, I've always been one of those down with original character fics, death to mary Sue's, and here I open up a fic with a whole chapter about an original character. Wai…………FORGIVE ME! Please. **lips tremble** I'm just misunderstood. **sniffle** life's complicated. For me it is. Okay, shut-up. I'm going into my dark corner now.  
I lie. Basically, what I want to get across with this fic is not Jack falling in love with my character, or Will falling in love with Jack, or even Elizabeth and Barbossa. **seen way to many of those already**. The main message of this fic is…. You can have too much of a good thing.  
  
**crickets**  
  
Okay, No one said you had to be sane to write. Speaking of writing, I recommend everyone who takes writing seriously to go The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen. Haven't seen it yet, obviously, just came out today. Well, might not be today for you, but still. Yeah, authors as superhero-ish people. Finally, we're getting the credit we deserve, well, more or less the characters we write. (MINA HARKER! YEAH!). Sean Connery better not botch this one up. ^-^Anywho, Almost at chapter three. I promise, it's getting better. Bear with me, I have never truly failed to disappoint a reader.  
I'm a bad liar. Sorry. ( Maybe I should stop with this chapter. I dunno. **skulks off**  
  
Lol. Sike!  
  
"Yo-ho-Yo-ho A PIRATE'S LIFE FOR MEEEEEE!"  
  
Jack Sparrow was drunk. Drunk as in past, present and future tense, not that right about now he would care about grammatical correctness. Several empty tankards of rum decorated a half circle around his deer-skin boots at the local pub as he and a couple of swash-bucklers chorused together very off key, as the higher class of the pub gaped from their bar stools and tables.  
  
Actually, forgetting keys, their unison was becoming a broken round. From "yo-ho's" to "yo-ha ha ha's". The bartender dropped a shot glass that he happened to be polishing.  
  
"Hey, Cap'n, Cap'n," a thin man with an adam's apple that looked like it weighed more than he could hold up tugged Jack's sleeve (damp with rum, by the way) hurriedly, swaying dangerously in his seat. "Cap'n, how does the song end?"  
The Captain of the Black Pearl swung his head back, and very sloppily throwing the silver tankard toward his face, splashing most of the alcohol on his shirt and matted hair. "No clue lads." He replied heartly.  
  
More harsh guffaws and hands slapping their knees, and the song started up again, louder than ever.  
  
* * *  
  
"And furthermore Faye…."  
  
Here we go again, the boss that won't shut up. He's like a freakin'  
energizer bunny, it keeps going and going and going ………..  
  
"Faye, we agreed to let you stay providing your marks in the Savanna  
Institute stayed up. Now even those are teetering on passing."  
  
Paperclips. This guy had like, three boxes of paperclips on his desk.  
Who in their right ming needed that many paperclips. Maybe he was trying  
to set the Guinness book of records for the longest paperclip chain.  
Yeah, sounds like something her boss would do.  
  
"… Your style is exactly what this studio needs, but you obviously  
have a problem following the rules."  
  
Darn tootin' bitch. KidPix, the animation company that she worked for  
between courses, didn't have a single artist besides her that could even  
draw a tree. Their biggest hit had been in 1999 when they came out with a  
45 minute long cartoon of "The Phantom of the Opera" and K-Mart actually  
agreed to sell it for $9.95 on Vhs. They sold like, what, 20 copies in  
the state. Other than that, every cartoon that they managed to produce  
was something by Hans Christian Anderson or another remake of Beauty and  
the Beast. No matter how many times she insisted it would boost the  
sales, her boss had something against having lips moving when a  
character was talking.  
  
"In conclusion, if you can't pull your act together, I'm afraid we'll  
have to remove you from the team. And furthermore …."  
  
Oh no. The tragedy, the despair, the agony. How can she ever live  
down the rejection.  
  
* * * * *  
  
"The British Army henceforth requests that you come quietly into its  
custody, remaining silent…."  
  
"We was just singing!" Bellowed a tubbier matey, complete with many  
gold teeth and the over used peg leg. "Whatcha arrestin' us fer?"  
  
"Disturbing the peace." A rather haughtie-taughtie general replied.  
Ironic how everyone went quite.  
  
"Wha's he mean by pea-" The scrawnier of the group whispered to Jack,  
but stopped as his conveniently noticed Sparrow's hand raised about to  
swat him like a fly.  
  
"Gentl'men, we understand completely." Jack bowed his head  
sympathetically.  
  
"We do?"  
  
"We do… Gentl'men," The captain grinned ear to ear. "If ya wanted to  
learn the song all you 'ad to do was ask."  
  
All three of the pirates were still singing as they were carried out  
of the pub.  
  
* * * * *  
  
Cubicles. She had seen a dilbert cartoon once where the little dog was  
talking about ruling the world and placing people into 10x10 squares in  
which they would live their lives. Her cubicle had one upside though. It  
was covered, inch by inch of lithographs she had collected from almost  
every animated movie made in the past ten years, some dating back to  
sixty years ago. (those being steamboat willie and what not) The fact  
that other artists had labored in such artifical conditions was  
encouraging enough to help get through at least one cel a day.  
  
That, and she had a very loud boom box.  
  
Wheeling around in her chair, Faye turned the volume notch at about  
half way ( a decent level), and daintly relased the CD from "pause".  
  
"FOLLOW YOUR HEAR-RT  
YOUR INTUTION-N!  
And it will lead you  
In the right direction  
LET GO YOUR MIND-D  
  
YOUR INTUTION-N  
  
IT'S EASY TO FIND-D…"  
  
Leaving the music blaring, Faye strutted down to the vending machine,  
he fellow animators grumbling as she walked by.  
  
* * * * *  
  
"State your name sir."  
  
"Billy."  
  
"No you's ain't!" cackled "Mr. I wanna lose five pounds in five  
days". "You's Jack Sparrow."  
  
"Cap'n," added in the other pirate opposite to Jack. " Cap'n Jack  
Sparrow, you forgot lad."  
  
"Sorry, sorry Cap'n."  
  
Jack's brain was being racked with optimistic and positive comments  
about his crew. Sure, they're not the brightest light house in the  
harbors, and I was mutinated by half o' 'em, but they can really swab up  
a deck. Nope, that didn't work either.  
  
"Listen." Jack turned his bronzed face to one of the many men in red  
coats around him. "How 'bout this, I'll take me friends off yer 'ands for  
three pence, let them sober up for tonight." His hands twittered  
nervously and he wanted nothing more than to take his pistol back and  
shoot the pompous freak in from of him right in the face. The worst the  
bullet could do is bounce off his blubber and hit another red coat.  
"Savvy?" he asked hopefully, gold teeth glinting in his mockingly sincere  
smile.  
  
"'Friad not pirate. Gallows for you."  
  
Gallows. A more hollow threat could not be made, mate. Honestly~  
  
* * * * *  
  
Didn't they have a law out yet that you could sue coke for their  
machines stealing your money. How the heck was she supposed to know that  
it was sold out of everything until after she put her buck in. Jesus!  
  
In a reaction more out of anger she pounded the grape soda button,  
with an instantaneous gurgling from the innards of the vending machine.  
Stopping in her tracks, a dasani water rolled into her view. Oddly  
enough, the plexiglas screen didn't stop the bottle from rolling out onto  
the tile floor. It teeter-tottered for a moment, as she looked at the  
dasani logo with as much terror in her heart that she had felt in her  
dream. Women's intuition probably.  
  
* * * * *  
  
My weren't the prison cells getting comfy. If Jack wasn't mistake, the  
cot that he was resting on was not stuffed with pete moss (which itself  
was infested with red chigger bugs), but with normal fluffing. Quite  
considerate of the armed forces really; considering they were probably  
downing spirits themselves. Bet nobody would arrest them, the lazy  
dickheads.  
  
* * * * *  
  
The bottle was shaking in her hands. When'd she pick it up? She  
couldn't remember. It was her shaking the bottle right? I mean, why was  
she so scared? It was just a friggin' bottle of water!  
  
The last thing Faye remember was seeing the plastic bottle cap explode  
off the mouth of the bottle; a rush of water consuming her.  
  
* * * * *  
  
The tide seemed to take a sudden lurch outward. Probably some sea  
omen. For once, Jack was beginning to believe in luck. The bleakness  
kept crossing his mind as one by one his cellmates drifted off into  
restless and nightmarish sleeps. Was this really it this time?  
  
* * * * *  
  
Bring  
  
Me  
  
To  
  
Life 


	2. Spirits and Intuition

A/n: Wow.. I feel like a hypocrite. Yeah, I've always been one of those down with original character fics, death to mary Sue's, and here I open up a fic with a whole chapter about an original character. Wai....FORGIVE ME! Please. **lips tremble** I'm just misunderstood. **sniffle** life's complicated. For me it is. Okay, shut-up. I'm going into my dark corner now.  
I lie. Basically, what I want to get across with this fic is not Jack falling in love with my character, or Will falling in love with Jack, or even Elizabeth and Barbossa. **seen way to many of those already**. The main message of this fic is.. You can have too much of a good thing.  
**crickets**  
Okay, No one said you had to be sane to write. Speaking of writing, I recommend everyone who takes writing seriously to go The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen. Haven't seen it yet, obviously, just came out today. Well, might not be today for you, but still. Yeah, authors as superhero-ish people. Finally, we're getting the credit we deserve, well, more or less the characters we write. (MINA HARKER! YEAH!). Sean Connery better not botch this one up. ^-^Anywho, Almost at chapter three. I promise, it's getting better. Bear with me, I have never truly failed to disappoint a reader.  
I'm a bad liar. Sorry. ( Maybe I should stop with this chapter. I dunno. **skulks off**  
  
Lol. Sike!  
  
"Yo-ho-Yo-ho A PIRATE'S LIFE FOR MEEEEEE!"  
  
Jack Sparrow was drunk. Drunk as in past, present and future tense, not that right about now he would care about grammatical correctness. Several empty tankards of rum decorated a half circle around his deer-skin boots at the local pub as he and a couple of swash-bucklers chorused together very off key, as the higher class of the pub gaped from their bar stools and tables.  
Actually, forgetting keys, their unison was becoming a broken round. From "yo-ho's" to "yo-ha ha ha's". The bartender dropped a shot glass that he happened to be polishing.  
"Hey, Cap'n, Cap'n," a thin man with an adam's apple that looked like it weighed more than he could hold up tugged Jack's sleeve (damp with rum, by the way) hurriedly, swaying dangerously in his seat. "Cap'n, how does the song end?"  
The Captain of the Black Pearl swung his head back, and very sloppily throwing the silver tankard toward his face, splashing most of the alcohol on his shirt and matted hair. "No clue lads." He replied heartly.  
More harsh guffaws and hands slapping their knees, and the song started up again, louder than ever.  
  
* * *  
  
"And furthermore Faye.."  
  
Here we go again, the boss that won't shut up. He's like a freakin'  
energizer bunny, it keeps going and going and going .....  
"Faye, we agreed to let you stay providing your marks in the Savanna  
Institute stayed up. Now even those are teetering on passing."  
Paperclips. This guy had like, three boxes of paperclips on his desk.  
Who in their right ming needed that many paperclips. Maybe he was trying  
to set the Guinness book of records for the longest paperclip chain.  
Yeah, sounds like something her boss would do.  
". Your style is exactly what this studio needs, but you obviously  
have a problem following the rules."  
Darn tootin' bitch. KidPix, the animation company that she worked for  
between courses, didn't have a single artist besides her that could even  
draw a tree. Their biggest hit had been in 1999 when they came out with a  
45 minute long cartoon of "The Phantom of the Opera" and K-Mart actually  
agreed to sell it for $9.95 on Vhs. They sold like, what, 20 copies in  
the state. Other than that, every cartoon that they managed to produce  
was something by Hans Christian Anderson or another remake of Beauty and  
the Beast. No matter how many times she insisted it would boost the  
sales, her boss had something against having lips moving when a  
character was talking.  
"In conclusion, if you can't pull your act together, I'm afraid we'll  
have to remove you from the team. And furthermore .."  
Oh no. The tragedy, the despair, the agony. How can she ever live  
down the rejection.  
  
* * * * *  
  
"The British Army henceforth requests that you come quietly into its  
custody, remaining silent.."  
"We was just singing!" Bellowed a tubbier matey, complete with many  
gold teeth and the over used peg leg. "Whatcha arrestin' us fer?"  
"Disturbing the peace." A rather haughtie-taughtie general replied.  
Ironic how everyone went quite.  
"Wha's pea-" The scrawnier of the group whispered to Jack, but stopped  
as his conveniently noticed Sparrow's hand raised about to swat him like  
a fly.  
"Gentl'men, we understand completely." Jack bowed his head  
sympathetically.  
"We do?"  
"We do. Gentl'men," The captain grinned ear to ear. "If ya wanted to  
learn the song all you 'ad to do was ask."  
All three of the pirates were still singing as they were carried out  
of the pub.  
  
* * * * *  
  
Cubicles. She had seen a dilbert cartoon once where the little dog was  
talking about ruling the world and placing people into 10x10 squares in  
which they would live their lives. Her cubicle had one upside though. It  
was covered, inch by inch of lithographs she had collected from almost  
every animated movie made in the past ten years, some dating back to  
sixty years ago. (those being steamboat willie and what not) The fact  
that other artists had labored in such artifical conditions was  
encouraging enough to help get through at least one cel a day.  
That, and she had a very loud boom box.  
Wheeling around in her chair, Faye turned the volume notch at about  
half way ( a decent level), and daintly relased the CD from "pause".  
"FOLLOW YOUR HEAR-RT  
YOUR INTUTION-N!  
And it will lead you  
In the right direction  
LET GO YOUR MIND-D  
  
YOUR INTUTION-N  
  
IT'S EASY TO FIND-D."  
Leaving the music blaring, Faye strutted down to the vending machine,  
he fellow animators grumbling as she walked by.  
  
* * * * *  
  
"State your name sir."  
"Billy."  
"No you's ain't!" cackled "Mr. I wanna lose five pounds in five  
days". "You's Jack Sparrow."  
"Cap'n," added in the other pirate opposite to Jack. " Cap'n Jack  
Sparrow, you forgot lad."  
"Sorry, sorry Cap'n."  
Jack's brain was being racked with optimistic and positive comments  
about his crew. Sure, they're not the brightest light house in the  
harbors, and I was mutinated by half o' 'em, but they can really swab up  
a deck. Nope, that didn't work either.  
"Listen." Jack turned his bronzed face to one of the many men in red  
coats around him. "How 'bout this, I'll take me friends off yer 'ands for  
three pence, let them sober up for tonight." His hands twittered  
nervously and he wanted nothing more than to take his pistol back and  
shoot the pompous freak in from of him right in the face. The worst the  
bullet could do is bounce off his blubber and hit another red coat.  
"Savvy?" he asked hopefully, gold teeth glinting in his mockingly sincere  
smile.  
"'Friad not pirate. Gallows for you."  
Gallows. Didn't they ever learn that sticking someone in the gallows  
was just he same as saying 'Tonight you're bustin' out mate.' Honestly~  
  
* * * * *  
  
Didn't they have a law out yet that you could sue coke for their  
machines stealing your money. How the heck was she supposed to know that  
it was sold out of everything until after she put her buck in. Jesus!  
In a reaction more out of anger she pounded the grape soda button,  
with an instantaneous gurgling from the innards of the vending machine.  
Stopping in her tracks, a dasani water rolled into her view. Oddly  
enough, the plexiglas screen didn't stop the bottle from rolling out onto  
the tile floor. It teeter-tottered for a moment, as she looked at the  
dasani logo with as much terror in her heart that she had felt in her  
dream. Women's intuition probably.  
  
* * * * *  
My weren't the prison cells getting comfy. If Jack wasn't mistake, the  
cot that he was resting on was not stuffed with pete moss (which itself  
was infested with red chigger bugs), but with normal fluffing. Quite  
considerate of the armed forces really; considering they were probably  
downing spirits themselves. Bet nobody would arrest them, the lazy  
dickheads.  
  
* * * * *  
The bottle was shaking in her hands. When'd she pick it up? She  
couldn't remember. It was her shaking the bottle right? I mean, why was  
she so scared? It was just a friggin' bottle of water!  
  
The last thing Faye remember was seeing the plastic bottle cap explode  
off the mouth of the bottle; a rush of water consuming her.  
  
* * * * *  
  
The tide seemed to take a sudden lurch outward. Probably some sea  
omen. For once, Jack was beginning to believe in luck. The bleakness  
kept crossing his mind as one by one his cellmates drifted off into  
restless and nightmarish sleeps. Was this really it this time?  
  
* * * * *  
  
Bring Me To Life 


End file.
